


The Hawke

by hawkesquad



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Drabble, Gen, I just need Carver to have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12632886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkesquad/pseuds/hawkesquad
Summary: Just some freewriting about Carver finding peace being himself.





	The Hawke

**Author's Note:**

> Just some freewriting about Carver finding peace being himself.

Carver had gotten good at running. Running from Ostagar. Running from the darkspawn.

Running from Bethany’s lifeless body.

He could see it still, when he woke in the middle of the night. Those brown, sweet eyes that stared at nothing. Her hands already cold when he touched them.

He saw her fall and took his anger out on the ogre that hurt her, all the while thinking one day they’d laugh about it. His sister, his Bethany.

Garrett cared. Even Carver wasn’t bitter enough to think his brother didn’t. He could compartmentalize, push it away, laugh and joke with their growing band of idiots. A year had passed and the world moved on.

Carver’s heart had died on a mountainside surrounded by corruption and fire, but nobody else still grieved. It was like she'd never existed.

He couldn't stand it.

He threw himself into fighting, getting better, making a name for himself. Or so he hoped. The only Hawke anyone ever seemed to talk about was his brother. He went along with it but the two of them couldn’t connect.

Garrett stepped back when he could’ve pushed on. He tried hard to give Carver the space to be himself. The younger Hawke couldn’t deny that he was trying. Even so, he found himself angry, ignored, never the name on anyone's lips. The only person in the world who truly understood him, who saw him for who he could be, was gone.

Nobody said her name.

Well, his mother did. Weeped it. She was no comfort, too busy blaming Garrett for her death or praising him for “saving” Kirkwall every time he killed some damn dragonling or brigand. He hated it, all of it.

More than anything, he missed his sister.

When he almost died in the Deep Roads, his brother and Anders had handed him off to the Wardens in their desperation to keep him alive. Some small part of him wondered if he’d see Bethany again if he didn’t make it through this. Everything he’d said and done, all the work he put in, it’d come down to just this.

Him, too bitter and guarded to make real connections, dying surrounded by Wardens who didn’t know him. Left behind by the only people who could have cared about him.

But he didn’t die. He went from not dying to recovering to thriving. He found himself more than fit to be a Warden, something he’d always secretly believed. When he was a child, he and his siblings played Grey Warden together. He’d get too into it and start playing rough and his mother would split them up while his father looked on with a strained smile. _Play nice, Carver._

Play nice. The darkspawn didn’t need him to play nice. His fellow Wardens didn’t need him to play nice. He found a place in the world and for once when people said Hawke, they meant him.

He even earned some glory, though by the time he got it he was no longer truly seeking it. He’d saved his team from the horde when all hope seemed lost. They looked at him as a brother, a friend, eventually a hero.

When he saw Garrett again, his brother’s eyes were full of warm surprise. Neither of them truly knew what to say to one another but they silently watched each other’s backs, fighting hard against the Qunari that were attacking Kirkwall. He couldn’t stay, though, only defending whoever needed help and was in his path.

He had to go. His brother asked him to remain behind, to fight alongside him, but the rest of his brothers had sworn an oath and to it he was bound as well.

He wished Garrett well and his brother just nodded. There was a look there Carver would think about for years. Respect tinged with sadness. A longing for him not to go.

 _So that’s what that feels like,_ he thought. Someone wanted him around. Needed him around.

But he had to go.

It was years before they saw each other again, Carver too busy with his duties. His mind was ever drawn to Kirkwall, though. To his brother, who’d survived against all odds and killed that mountain of an Arishok in single combat. To his mother, who’d died while he was gone at the hands of some monster who lured her with promises he couldn't even think about or he'd break something.

He cried for his mother, cried and grieved and finally, when he could cry no more, moved on. She was with Bethany and his father. He had to believe that.

He wrote to his brother, stiffly expressing joy that he was well. It was the best Carver could manage. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to his mother or his sister. He wanted to make sure Garrett knew he cared. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to say goodbye to him. When he later learned that Gamlen of all people had a daughter, he was relieved. Garrett wouldn’t be totally alone. There were a couple people left who were close enough for him to rely on.

Well, rely on was a bit much. Garrett relied on people the way a mother bird relied on her young. He protected because that's what he _did_. There was no other choice.

He realized he didn’t count himself as a resource to his brother and it made him a little sad. He wanted Garrett to be well, to be happy, and he’d have died for him. But he had new brothers and sisters.

Sisters.

Bethany.

As detached as he felt from the rest of the life he'd left, he always ached when he thought of her. He hoped she’d be proud of him. He finally found his place in the world and all it had cost him was everything he used to love.

 _Don’t let go of everything, Carver._ He could hear Bethany in his imagination. The ghost of her that lived behind his eyes was gently chiding him for pulling so far away. It would occasionally tease him about whatever ridiculous thing he was doing or comfort him when he felt overwhelmed. Now, it beckoned him to go back home.

And for a while, he could ignore it.

When Kirkwall started to crumble, word trickled back to him. He’d almost lost his brother once to the Arishok. Not again. Nobody else, not to darkspawn or darkness or corruption. He would protect what he had left or die trying.

He fought alongside Garrett, barely registering the man’s surprise when he showed up just in time to help. They brought down Meredith, her body turning into a horrible red statue. His brother pulled him into a hug. He looked exhausted, emotional, but he just smiled at Carver. “Good to see you.”

Carver smiled back, his words genuine. “Any time, brother.”

He had two families, two lives, but they could coexist. He would always come when he was needed. The Wardens, Garrett, whoever. He had to be there for them all because they _mattered_. He was a Hawke and that was the path he’d chosen.

For that, he was sure, Bethany would have been pleased.

**Author's Note:**

> My mother died a few years ago. For me, the way Carver felt about losing his sister was probably a lot like my feelings on losing my mom. His relationship with Leandra was more complex, so I focused less on that for what I was writing.


End file.
